Baseball in Budapest

Or in Szentendre at least. That's right, this weekend Lyla and I headed up to Szentendre with our friend/colleague Anna to watch a baseball game. There's a competitive men's league and two of the better teams were playing. It was the fastest game of baseball I've ever seen and we only got rained on for the last few minutes of the game. It was a lot of fun to be in this bizarre situation, as Hungarians shouted things like "Ket out-os vagyunk!" (literal translation: We're two out-ey!)

Sunday was dedicated to such important fall activities as baking macaroni and cheese and laying on the couch for excessive amounts of time while watching cooking shows on youtube. It was, in a word, awesome.

Tonight were parent teacher conferences, to which many parents actually came. In between I kibitzed with Balint about lessons plans and general nonsense. It was, as always, rather cozy and pleasant. Then I got to bike home in the dark (reflective vest and lights on) and enjoy the view along the river and the solidarity of the city streets in the evening.

Oh my goodness, winter!

Last week all of Budapest got to enjoy some beautiful fall weather. It was cool, but sunny, with a slight breeze... perfect "sweater weather." Then Saturday was gray and rainy, but Sunday was back to being lovely.

Yesterday, winter came. Yesterday, the weather dropped fifteen degrees, the sun disappeared from the sky, and rain fell in waves (onto me, on my bicycle). Today the rain was happily gone, but it was replaced with enough wind to crash the branches of the trees outside the school into the windows loud enough that the little kids shrieked. And it was cold! Really really cold.

Obstinately, I will continue to wear my fall coat. I'm getting more than 3 wears out of it, common sense be damned.

family day gauntlet, Tata, and bagels

I worked a week. It was a long week, and I was tired and cranky by the end of it, exhausted by my lessons, my difficulties with my one class's ability to learn (or lack thereof), outside stress, going off my allergy meds for the winter, and expat difficulties.

Yesterday was a family day at the school, which means we all got to head in and spend several hours of our Saturday playing with small children. Which can be frustrating in concept, but once again the family day did not disappoint in its absolute ridiculousness. Kids jumped bare-footed into wooden barrels of grapes which they smashed into a thick juice, which older kids filtered and everyone then drank, grimacing slightly at the concept of kid feet. Songs were sung in which children were encouraged to act as if they were drunk and lazy and fall asleep at the job. Children formed a row and passed each other down the line, while other children crashed into the supportive children with metal loops. Meanwhile, kids wielded sledgehammers, trying to crush walnuts being dropped down a tube and onto a rickety log while other children crouched nearby without eye protection. The food, beside the foot-juice, was bread spread with fat and topped with onions.

At one point Balint wandered over and I commented that literally nothing that was happening in the school yard could ever ever happen in an American school. Asked if that was a good or a bad thing, I could only laugh. Last year's family day, when I saw children doing similarly insane activities, was my first big "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore!" moment. I'm glad that this country continues to baffle me.

Afterwards, Lyla and I darted to the train station to catch a train to Tata, where Carla was hosting a sort of informal teachers' meeting so we could all exchange lesson plans. That was helpful, and the evening was as fun and cathartic as always, to meet with all the other American teachers I enjoy and blow off some steam.

Upon arriving home today, Lyla and I made bagels. This was my first time making a bread from scratch. They turned out a little bit flat, but delicious and honest-to-goodness bagelly, for only about an hour's work. We will certainly be making them again.

hiking through Buda

Are you sitting down? I hope so, since you're at a computer, but you never know. If not, sit down. Because I, so-not-outdoorsy Lauren, spent 8 hours out and about on Saturday, hiking through the Buda hills. And I had a great time! Mostly because of the beautiful company, but the views were also quite amazing.

The only photo I have to offer is one from Laci. Enjoy.

Happiness, in pictures

the gift of a new bike, to replace one stolen from you, and getting to still feel wind on your face and the giddy freedom of not having to use public transit

having a pet who loves you and makes you smile, and throwing her a birthday party, and having people actually come and only smile a little bit at the fact that it is, in fact, a birthday party for a rat

having a family no matter where you are, and no matter how small it may be

chocolate rum cake with raisins and fresh plums, covered in home-made whipped cream icing and rainbow colored sprinkles

(and, not pictured...)
cooking for others who are good food audiences, whose mouths drop open at the sight of your creations, and who eat hungrily, silently, and smiling

an amazing weekend in Budapest

So this was one of my first weekends in Budapest for a few weeks in which I wasn't either sick or busy with obligations. So Lyla and I planned a lovely one. It started out on Thursday evening when we went to our friend Magda's home for dinner, drinks, and great conversation about our funny expat lives.

sleepy Bencelita emerges from her peanut butter jar bed

On Friday after work I headed back to Avicenna, where I happily got some lessons. I taught some funny kids about auxiliary verbs with the background of graphology. I tooled home on my bike and then headed out to see District 9 with some friends, which was a great movie, if quite heavy and violent. It was just splendidly executed (and apparently with almost no budget) and a new and interesting take on the whole "alien" concept. After the movie we grabbed a few drinks and chatted about our jobs, laughing a lot and coughing from the crazy smoke.

Saturday Lyla and I went to the Palace of Wonders with Balint, Mate, and Laci. We played with the various science experiments and games of skill. The boys got caught up repeatedly in male competitiveness with balance competitions, reaction time testers, running trials. Lyla and I laughed at them and blew bubbles and smacked up the games that tested patience.

Mate trying to balance while staring at moving lines.

Laci gets ready to knock Balint off the balance-testing machine.

After arriving home we cooked an amazing dinner. I made squash soup and Mexican bread pudding. Recipes to follow:

Butternut Squash Soup
1 large shallot, finely diced+parsley+basil+cinnamon+curry powder, cooked in a bit of oil
1 liter chicken broth
1/2 medium butternut squash, cooked and diced
blend all the ingredients together
add about a cup of cooking cream, blend together
add salt, butter, garlic to taste
serve with seasoned croutons

Mexican bread pudding
2 cups of water, 1 and 1/2 cups sugar, lots of cinnamon-- bring to a boil, simmer to a syrup
melt 2 tablespoons of butter, melt in
add hearty splash of rum, stir
add 1/2 loaf of diced toast, handful of golden raisins, handful of large diced plums, stir well
pour into a well-oiled pan, bake at 350 degrees for 40 minutes
serve with a splash of heavy cream


Today we spent the day wandering the city's touristic sites with some Polish house guests and relaxing with season 3 of Dexter.

Bencelita with Dagmara

St. Stephen's square

the Holocaust memorial near the river

a pretty building near freedom square

freedom

So way back in the spring I bought myself two wheels worth of freedom. Now I can't seem to quit the thing. With the exception of last week when I was sneezing every three minutes and coughing up a storm, I've been trying to ride my bike pretty much everywhere. For one thing, it takes the same amount of time, or less, to ride it as to take public transit. For another, I feel good about myself knowing that I've gotten some exercise in and maybe even worked up a bit of a sweat. Mostly, though, it's just a really pleasant experience.

I ride to and from school primarily on bike paths along the river. The sun sparkles on the water, the breeze brushes my cheeks, birds sing. It's a great way to start the day or head home. I just feel so free with the wind in my face.

a weekend in the countryside

I love Budapest, but sometimes it can just be too much. Happily, on such occasions it is usually quite simple for me to dart out to the countryside for a visit with friends. How you too can duplicate this country weekend:

Friday afternoon: plan to leave to catch bus to Kalocsa. Feeling sickish and lazy, stay home baking brownies and watching Dexter instead.

Saturday morning: wake up early, throw a few items of clothing into a bag, and head to the bus station. Catch a bus to Kalocsa, squeezing into a small spot on the floor. Arrive to Kalocsa and drop off things at Rob's house. Wander the adorable little town, and eat kremes.

Saturday afternoon: meet up with Jon and Franny. Head off to the Paprika Days Festival. Purchase a beautiful blue piece of paper that entitles me to one dish of the delightfully scented red stews abounding around the outskirts of the festival. Spend thirty minutes wandering from one food stand to the other, in honest emotional distress about which of the delicious offerings to sample. Return for the third time to the stand where serious fishermen are smoking whole fish on sticks, basting them with garlicky-paprika-y red marinade. Buy a fish soup. Return triumphantly to eat fish soup, just as soon as you tear apart a little hot paprika to kick up the flavor.

When your friend nonchalantly says, "There's a horse just running around," nonchalantly turn to see a horse running at your table. Applaud the tiny Hungarian man who grabs the horse's reins seemingly without meaning to. Finish your delicious food. Sneeze several times. Pass a stand for the supposed best paprika in Hungary, and be given 200g for free. Giddily skip over to the palinka tent and purchase a beautiful little bottle with a dried quince floating inside, and a shot of baby pink samoca (wild strawberry) palinka. Sip it slowly with your friends.

Watch folk dancing with the help of a cold beer. Be moved especially by the groups of elderly folks singing traditional songs. Then go watch a strange emo-rocker singing in English. Wander the craft tents and discuss how Hungarian candy always sort of lets you down. Watch some more folk dancing.

Saturday evening: wander back to your host's home, and sit with your friends and drink some froccs. Watch ridiculous videos on youtube and tell funny stories about teaching and life. Bitch slightly about Hungary's frustrations while extolling its virtues. Make at least one Triannon joke.

Proceed to a small Italian restaurant run by the eccentric Vincenzo. Be given wine, water, and compliments. Order the pork fillet that he demands you order, and then be amazed at how delicious and flavorful it is. The meat just melts as you eat it, and the paprika-y sauce, with mushrooms and bell peppers, tops it perfectly.

Just as everyone finishes their meal, watch fireworks explode over the top of the town's miniature skyline.

Saturday night: wander around town for a bit, talking with your friend's Hungarian friend in Hunglish and shuffling your feet so as to avoid smooshing a frog. Go to sleep early, feet hanging off the end of a couch, and sleep soundly.

Sunday morning: awake to a cacophony of bells at 7 AM. Curse such diligent folks and go back to bed. Eat eggs and bacon for breakfast and chill around the flat.

Sunday afternoon: go to your friend's friend's home for lunch. Sit in the garden of their lovely home and eat delicious palacsinta topped with lemony turo and homemade jams. Drink some more froccs and be complimented on your Hungarian. Totally warmed by hospitality and happiness, dart down to the bus station to catch your bus home. Squeeze onto the floor again, this time in the stairwell, and drift off for a nap on the trip home.

I cried at work yesterday

And not for any of the old reasons. I understood everything that was going on. Nobody had unintentionally insulted me. I was simply scared.

In fourth lesson I was having my third graders create personal calendars, writing and illustrating a holiday or special event next to each month in the year (which were further divided into seasons). It was a fun little craft project that tricked them into doing a lot of writing. Anyway, I was in the back of the classroom looking over Zsombor's work when I heard a crash from the front.

I spun around in enough time to see Jazmin's head, presumably bouncing off the desk behind her, crash into the lip of her chair. Jazmin didn't move for a few seconds, though it seemed like minutes, and a few students, cruel in the way that children can be, started laughing, tickled at the idea that one of their peers had finally rocked their chair onto the ground as I always warned them they would. In the second it took me to get the front of the room, Jazmin still hadn't moved, holding onto the chair. When I got there, she looked up at me and started to cry, and I breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't seriously injured. The crying, though, moved her chin from the chair.

And the blood poured.

I guess, in retrospect, that I helped her up from the floor, pushed a tissue to her chin, and clapped her hand over the cut. I guess, in retrospect, that I grabbed another (reliable student), wrapped her hand around Jazmin's tilted back head, and told them in Hungarian to go quickly to the school doctor. I guess that some of the students went and fetched the mop from the corner, and we cleaned the mess of the classroom. Then I wiped off my hands and taught the rest of the lesson, because what else could I really do?

The next thing I clearly remember, though, is walking into the staff room after the lesson ended and I could leave. I washed my hands calmly, and then just started shaking. And I cried. Nora gave me some grape sugar so I wouldn't feel so faint, and I shook some more and ate two. Then I wiped off my face and went to teach the next lesson.

It turns out that Jazmin is fine, of course. Kids are made of rubber and have a remarkable ability to bounce. She missed the day today, but came in at the end to get her books, showing her classmates her stitches like a proud war veteran. Of course the kids were back to rocking in their chairs again.

But that moment when she was so still, and the moment when blood just poured from her face? I didn't even know what to do. Responsibility, especially for tiny little souls that I just genuinely care for, can be such a heavy thing. I realized yesterday, in a way that I hadn't really yet done so, that I'm an adult now. It was big and scary. I'm still a bit shaken about the whole thing.

making pierogies!

Lyla and I were inspired by the visit of two Polish girls we met on our trip to make some pierogies. And oh, are they delicious. Some will make the trip into work tomorrow because Bill loves pierogies and Balint has never had any. So that must be taken care of.

pierogies waiting to be cooked, simmering away, and chilling in the strainer

a cute little rolled pierogie

yum!